Bells Of Heaven

The bells of heaven ring
To wild and beckoned souls
As one would kneel
At the mere sound
Amply passing through ears
And inward
Where the true hearing is

Of joy that rips the heart
And ragged renders it
Like deeply shaded night
Dipped in ink, specked with gold,
As swirls of ripe perfumes
Of olive, of myrrh, of bay
It moves in shapes of ponies bright
And leaping dogs and riders

© Rachelle LeCount

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